


Record and Repeat

by HostileSilence



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M, Student!John SuperStar!Dave
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:05:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostileSilence/pseuds/HostileSilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was this time I Sang and Rapped. There was this time I was Discovered. There was this time I was Canon. There was this time I was Famous.</p><p>There was this time I Became Lonely. There was this time I Became Irritated. There was this time Everything Changed. There was this time that I fell in Love.</p><p>There was this time that everything took a turn for the Worst. But I never had second thoughts of recording and repeating it over and over again. My Name is Dave Strider and this is my Story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Note

**Author's Note:**

> In which Dave is Irritated **(Silence, I need to talk to you down at the bottom of the notes)**

**Record and Repeat  
Chapter 1 **

**A Note**

**==== >Dave: Be the star, it’s you.**

Your Name is Dave Strider and you are really annoyed at the moment. 

You’re a famous song artist that lives in Houston, Texas, in an apartment building situated in the middle of the city. 

Your room or your so called bachelor’s pad is at the topmost level of said building. Your pad isn’t as different as the other apartments found in Houston, except for the fact that it’s bigger by a few square meters and it’s filled with your brother’s disturbing piles of ass puppets or what he calls the plush rumps of glory. You call it bullshit.

Not to mention your brother’s entire collection of shitty swords stuffed inside the refrigerator that you never in your life got to use, not even for eating purposes. The apartment has a living room, a small kitchenette, a shared bathroom, a guest room and two master rooms. You’re always inside your room and you’ve never seen your brother’s room nor will you ever try to. It’s probably filled with more ass puppets than in the living room and the kitchenette.

The thought sends shivers into your spine and an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. You feel like puking. But no, you have to get ready for work again. Though you really don’t feel like it. You are instead sitting on your leather chair in front of your Mac computer. 

**==== >Do something!**

You’ve decided to do nothing at all, though you’re on the verge of dying from boredom. You could always use your Pesterchum, but you know your chums won’t be online until later. You close your computer and pick your iPhone off the desk, heading out of your room. You pass by your brother in the living room.

You exchange glances with very little expression before completely ignoring each other again. You close the door behind you and walk over to the elevator, your thoughts travelling back to your apartment. You push the button. When the media and paparazzi asked you why you live here instead of Hollywood you said “I’m too hot for Holly wood,” and, “Them other hipsters can’t handle my swag.”

They should have been insulted or angry at you but it was actually the exact opposite. All of the ladies swayed and swooned at your every word and the men worked up enough courage to make feeble jokes, but none of them insulted you back. It was as if they were afraid one wrong step by insulting a Strider meant you would end their acting career or lead them to death. You were unsure whether you’d actually do this, but none of them have ever pushed you enough to ever consider it.

You reach the lobby and you step out the front door and into the unforgiving sun of Texas. Just outside you can hear your car’s engine whirring as it awaits your arrival. You hop into the back seat and you’re welcomed by your chauffer. With a quick exchange of greetings you head to your first destination, Washington. You have a plane to catch and a concert to reach, plenty of adoring fans awaiting your arrival in that cold, rainy state.

It was an open field concert too. This information gives you a headache. Nothing irks you more than a platoon of rabid fan girls trying to smooch you up and grab your ass. Your chauffer – you never paid enough attention to catch his name – drops you off at the nearby airport, getting out and handing you your luggage. You meet off with your body guards and you’re all set. Goodbye Houston and hello Washington.

**==== >Dave: Do the concert-y thing.**

Your name is Dave Strider and you are exhausted, you can’t do the concert-y thing because you just finished the concert.

What the hell type of name is that anyway? Concert-y thing, sounds like something that’d come out of some vagabond’s mouth, a vagabond that’s commanding a thirteen year old to do something insane and impossible. You drop this thought, it made no sense and was beginning to make your head ache.

You are currently inside your dressing room, which is filled with different colored, types, and sizes of flowers along with stuffed toys. You grit your teeth in irritation for the lack of space in your own private sanctuary. You can’t ask the staff to rid your room of the bouquets and gifts and place them outside because outside is where your equipment is, along with the rest of your fan’s shouts of attention. You flop into your bean bag chair and dig for your iPhone from your skinny jeans. You turn it on and see the violet hued text that flashed on your ever worn shades.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

TT: Hello David.  
TG: rose how many times do i have to tell you my names not david  
TG: its dave  
TT: Considering how irritated you seem to be right now from my teasing, I’m going to assume you have just finished your concert. Am I right, David?  
TG: its dave  
TT: Alright, David.  
TG: jegus christ rose  
TG: for gods sake ok if you keep going i will drop this conversation so fucking fast  
TG: yes i did just finish a concert  
TG: and yes im really irritated  
TG: now stop with the david and goliath thing   
TT: Tell me Dave,  
TT: What is irritating you other than my teasing?   
  
TG: how about you in general  
TG: same shit as always lalonde  
TT: Go on.  
TG: its all just so fucking frustrating  
TG: the room  
TG: the hallway  
TG: wait  
TG: fuck  
TG: stop with this therapy bullshit rose its not helping   
TT: I’m not doing anything even closely related to therapy, Dave.  
TT: I am simply trying to give you a way to release your emotional tension in a smooth, conversational way.   
TG: same shit  
TG: this is bullshit  
TG: i shouldnt have followed what that shithead agent said  
TG: that way i wouldnt be caught in the middle of this crap   
TT: If this ‘crap’ refers to your singing and rapping on stage maybe you should think otherwise. Isn’t doing this your dream?  
TG: wow rose hold your shit  
TG: im not saying i hate doing my thing on stage  
TG: its just this feeling i have  
TG: i cant explain it   
TT: You can tell me what you’re feeling. Who knows, maybe telling me how you feel will help and maybe I can figure out why you are feeling that way?  
TG: no  
TT: Dave you can tell me.  
TG: no  
TG: no way in hell   
TT: Alright then I’ll log out since there’s nothing to do here.  
TG: good  
TG: …  
TG: wait  
TG: rose  
TG: ok ill tell you  
  
TT: Alright, pray tell David, what is it you are feeling?  
TG: stop with the david shit you broad  
TG: my names not david alright  
TG: its dave  
TG: god  
TG: theres just this empty feeling ok  
TG: i just feel so irritated and tired of it  
TG: i got what i wanted  
TG: a career in laying sick beats and everything  
TG: but i still feel so fucking empty  
TG: it sucks rose  
TT: I see.  
TG: you see what TG: gay magical wizards running around your vision???  
TT: No.  
TG: my bad then  
TT: I’ll take that as an apology. But I think you’re just missing something in your life.  
TG: no shit  
TT: I think it’s time you try to date someone. This is currently the best solution to your problem.  
TG: oh no rose  
TG: youre not saying i should close my magic ass music wings and settle down with some random chick  
TG: are you  
TT: I’m not saying anything David.  
TT: I’m just telling you to think about it.  


\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

TG: no  
TG: shit  
TG: fucking snarky broad  


 

**==== >Dave: Take defeat like a man.**

You turn off your iPhone and shove it inside the right pocket of your pants. You feel more irritated than ever. You stand up and head outside. You glance at your wristwatch, it’s 10:00 pm and your newly formed frustration has given you some more energy.

You figure a late night stroll could at least take some of the ghosts off of your shoulders. You mock salute the bouncer at the backstage door as he opens the door to let you out. You don’t really know where you’re going, but far away from the concert field sounds great to you. You turn on you iPhone again and plug in your earphones. 

The scenery around you changes and you clearly have no idea where you are. But then you set in your mind that you’ll just take a cab on the way back to the concert area or the airport if you want to get the hell out of Washington fast. You’re kind of relived that there are no rabid fan girls or groupies ambushing you at the moment, but at the same time you’re pissed off because you’d never thought it would be this fucking cold outside.

Just as you walk pass a corner you see a pathway in the middle of a bunch of trees. You quickly thought that this was a public park. There are probably vending machines that offer any sort of hot beverage in this park. And your presumptions were proven true when you spotted a vending machine right off the corner, just a few meters from a bench.

You ignore your surroundings and head off in a moderate pace towards the vending machine. Until you collide into something. “Ouch!” The sound alarms you and you flash step backwards to see the source of the sound.

You see a hunched over mass of black hair trying to nurse a hand that had a Van’s sole shaped dirt imprint on it, and you could see a pair of square rimmed glasses not far from this person. You pick up the glasses and almost shove them into the person’s hand. The thing, no, the beautiful angel crouched down in front of you, who looked up to you with its bedazzling sky blue orbs one can call eyes. He tries to squint his eyes to have a better look at you and you remember he hasn’t seen the glasses he was looking for. So you grab his free hand and place the bulky glasses on it. “Huh?”

“Your glasses, dumbass.” You interject. You mentally slap yourself for saying such a thing to a beautiful creature. But the snarky reply comes with a bit of nervousness, trying to communicate with somebody in person – in the presence of a complete stranger nonetheless – had always been a bit difficult for you.

Your brother and your agent didn’t count, and you just give the other signs or signals of approval, acknowledgement, or negations instead of actually speaking with them. Same goes for the media. Most of your lines are scripted by your agent so you won’t screw it up. The only people you’d actually talk to would be Rose and Jade, but you never even met them in real life so scratch that thought.

“Oh, thanks.” He replies quietly. His small and silky voice cut you off from your thoughts and pulled you back to reality. He placed his glasses back onto his nose and finally got a clear look at your face. He was even more of a beauty with those goofy glasses of his.

He grinned softly at you and you swore to yourself you will not swoon and will instead keep a poker face to hide any sort of emotion. You almost fail to do so and quickly avert him, heading back to the vending machine you sought for. You dig in your pockets in search of your wallet, but to no avail did you find it. Shit, you must have left it back at your dressing room and forgot to pocket it before you left.

You notice that he hasn’t moved from his original spot at all, and he now looks at you with curious eyes. You almost blush in embarrassment as you stare at the vending machine with no money in your pockets. You try to convince your mind that he left by now so would be left alone to die in your misery. You look back and – to your content – don’t see any sight of the black haired beauty, nowhere to be spotted in the vicinity of the park.

**==== >Dave: Make sure this stranger is gone.**

You try to tip toe and peek at the far off end of the park in search of the black and blue mass. You sigh in relief when you see no signs of him being there. “Sighing like that won’t get you anything from the vending machine you know?” You give out a shrill cry of surprise and turn around to see him behind you, holding a cup of hot cocoa. He giggles at your shock and hands you the plastic cup.

This is when you finally get to see how he looks completely. His perfect sky blue eyes are framed like a surreal painting by those bulky glasses of his perching on his nose. His lips were rosy and a bit pale because of the cold air of the night. It was slightly pouty and cute.

You noted that he seems fucking kissable, even with those protruding dental projections of his. His disheveled hair seems to match up to his adorable goofy face. He’s wearing thick Buffy jacket around his body and a blue knitted scarf around his neck. As for his lower half, he was wearing a pair of worn out jeans and brown leather boots. You feel the hot cup of cocoa being pushed into your hands and you can hear him giggle once more before holding the cup yourself.

“Wha-“

“Its Cocoa, Dumbass” He giggles.

“I know that shithead.” You retort, and you can clearly see he’s taken aback. You mentally slap yourself again for snapping at him. Oh lord how you wish you could die quickly. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I don’t mind.” He smiles back at you. You feel the heat of blood creeping up your cheeks, and it’s a good thing you’re wearing sunglasses. He will never see how your eyes are slowly swaying with love. Part of your thin scarf is hiding your cheeks too, so you feel it’s all good. “You should drink that cocoa of yours.”

“Why?”

“Umm… It won’t be as warm as before if you don’t?”

“No, why are you doing this?”

“Oh! Well actually you were staring so intently at the cocoa button on the vending machine and you were fumbling all over your clothes. I figured maybe you had left your wallet at home or something. And I thought maybe I should buy you a cup of cocoa. You seem cold too, considering you’re wearing such a thin outfit. How’d you survive this long!?” You remain silent though, you haven’t been out here that long, this boy sure did seem to talk a lot.

“Oh gosh! I’m sorry!” He grins sheepishly after stopping his endless rambling. You never thought it would end. But there’s this weird yet comfortable feeling in your chest that tells you to just listen. It makes you kind of want to smile but you still pull up your poker face. It slightly makes you sad that he stopped speaking, but you pipe up when you hear his voice again. “It’s kind of a habit of mine, please forgive me.”

“It’s fine.”

“I just thought maybe I should thank you for helping me find my glasses.” Your heart flutters softly in your chest. How many times is this boy going to make you sway with his simple gestures?

“I stepped on your hand and insulted you a more than a few times, I don’t really deserve a thank you.” You hate how blunt your reply was. You wished to soften your voice, but the more you tried the more snarky or sarcastic it sounded when you released the words from your mouth. He waves his hands right above his shoulders in defense.

“Oh no! it was my fault for crawling on the ground without much of a sound of warning to you.”

“Your vision was blurry how the hell could you have seen me coming and warn me, ‘Oh dear loving sir! I am but a stupid boy crawling on the ground! Oh please help me sir!’” 

He huffs out a breath and crosses his arms against his chest, halfheartedly glaring at you. “Well I’m sorry that I feel apologetic and thankful for helping me find my glasses instead of leaving me behind for death’s cold hand to claim me!”

You bow your head in shame to your side. You really can’t help it, the words just keep coming out of your mouth like there’s no tomorrow. You lift you head to say your apologies but you feel a warm jacket being draped around your shoulders. You open your mouth to say something but you were cut off before anything leaves your lips.

“I’ll listen to your apology tomorrow, same time same place. For now I should go home, my dad’s probably gonna kill me if he discovered I spoke with a stranger all night! There’s money inside the jacket as well. You should go get a cab your something. Though I’m not sure it will be enough, but I hope it will.”

He grabs one of your hands and fist bumps you before skipping off to the opposite direction. “See ya later sunglasses dude!” He waves at you until he disappears around the corner of your vision. You hold your fist to your chest and held the jacket with the other hand. You walk out of the park and quickly saw a cab on the curb, you held your hand up to signal it. You shuffle into the back seat and tell the cab driver to take you to the concert grounds. 

The cab driver smiles warmly at you before revving up the car. It didn't take along before you got to the concert grounds. You dig into that boy’s jacket and pulled out several bills of money and handed it to the driver. Just as the driver was about to leave again you knocked at his window, which he rolled down to speak to you. “How else can I help you sir?” He smiles again.

“Yeah, Umm do you know the address of that park you picked me up from?” You scratch behind your head and absentmindedly play with the seams of the jacket you borrowed. He laughs heartily before writing on a piece of yellow paper – you think it’s a sticky note – and handing it to you. You stare at the address and don’t notice you’re smiling longingly at the piece of paper. You thank the driver and he grins at you before starting up the cabs gear and hollering back.

“Good luck with that date of yours, Super Star.” You curse a little under your breath before turning back and heading backstage. You sigh and pick out your iPhone from your pants. You’re thinking deeper than you have your whole life. And you smile because of it.  
Your Name is Dave Strider, you’re a famous song artist, and you’ve fallen head over heels for a random ass boy at the park.

And you like it.

-end of chapter 1-


	2. A Tone

Your Name is John Egbert.

You are a normal High school student and you just made a new friend.

**== > John: Be happy.**

You’re smiling brightly at the moment; your grin stretching wide from ear to ear. You don’t know why but you feel happy, happier than being able to avoid another of your dad’s daily dose of Betty Crocker cake mix. You walk down the street usually empty streets and into the suburban area of the city. You don’t know how fast you’re walking but you get to your house quicker than you thought you would.

In front of you is a simple white house with a tree, equipped with a tire swing tied from one of its sturdier branches. You also take notice of the bouncing slime on the front yard. You smile to yourself and think how beautiful and simple your life is. You see your dad’s car in the garage so you presume that your dad is definitely home, oh crap. You sneak off to the back side of the house, heading towards the kitchen door.

You walk as quietly as you can muster, wincing ever now and then because of the soft squeaks of your rubber shoes against the smooth tiles of the back porch. You reach the door and hold your breath, hoping you don’t alarm your father, letting him know that you’re here. You sneak a glance inside the kitchen from the window, seeing your father storing your dinner inside the refrigerator. You take your eyes off the window and stare at your backyard, wishing that your dad will leave and go to bed as soon as possible so you can come inside unnoticed and unseen.

You hear the familiar sound of the refrigerator closing and you father’s footsteps on the stairs fading. You release your held breath in a sigh of relief. Knowing your dad’s probably in his bedroom already, you open the kitchen door and saunter inside. You open the refrigerator for the food your father left for you to eat. You set down the table and think you can probably eat it without popping it in the oven because your father just put in the fridge moments ago.

You move to grab a spoon and fork and open the container of your midnight dinner. You discover that your dinner was roasted chicken, a glob of mash potatoes, and a slice of cake. You gobble up the mash potatoes and the piece chicken but leave the slice of cake untouched and unmarred.

You have this weird feeling in your chest telling you that you forgot something. You pick up the cover of the Lock n’ lock plastic container and put it back into place, clicking the lid on and standing up, walking over to the fridge. You open it and place the container down, pushing it into the back as far as you can before closing it. As the door closes you become aware of a post-it note sticking on the top most corner of the refrigerator.

You reach up and grab the piece of sticky paper and read the blocky, uppercased words scrawled on it. You gasp and panic a bit as you read aloud.

SON,

I AM PROUD OF YOU. BUT AT LEAST TELL ME WHY YOU ARE HIDING FROM ME BEHIND THE KITCHEN DOOR.

I’M NOT ANGRY. THERE IS DINNER AND CAKE IN THE FRIDGE.

IT’S PAST MIDNIGHT, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON.

 

You are now guilt-ridden. You feel bad for hiding from your father and at the same time shocked that he did not accost you, even though he knew you were behind that door. It seems that you’ve forgotten that tomorrow was your birthday. Err. Or today since it’s past midnight already. You snatch up one of your dad’s post-it notes and doodle a quick reply.

sorry.  
i promise i won’t do it again!  
thanks for making dinner dad, i love you. :B  
-john

Satisfied with your master piece of literature, you grin a heartfelt smile and drag yourself up the stairs to your bedroom. You have just been reminded of your birthday, the day you were introduced to the world. Now you feel even happier and giddier trying to think about the possible things that might happen tomorrow. But you feel more excited on meeting that cool guy you met in the park.

Your name is John Egbert.

And for once you are too excited to fall asleep.

 

**=== > John: Sleep the rest of the night.**

 

You did not sleep at all last night.

Your alarm clock flares, glaring red as it rings to wake your supposedly asleep body, but you’re fully awake and tangled in your bed sheets. You slap your hand onto the alarm clock’s snooze button and hoist it up towards the ceiling for you to see. Your alarm clock was a silly cartoon sculpture of Nic Cage, who was not silly but instead a master at acting. He was wearing his outfit from Con Air along with a small yellow bunny rabbit settled on his arm. His hand was out stretched forward towards your face and he was standing on a black circular stage which seems to be the display screen of your digital clock. You giggle softly and place the clock back into its original station.

You jump off the bed and to your feet. You stretch your arms above you until you hear the satisfying sound of popping bones on your back. Your HTC phone vibrates and blares gray. You quickly knew who was trying to get a hold of you. You grab your phone and opened your Pesterchum.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

CG: HEY ASSHOLE.  
CG: HURRY UP AND OPEN YOUR PHONE.  
CG: GOG DAMN IT YOU’RE WASTING MY TIME.  
CG: I WILL YOU WIPE THAT SMUG SMILE OFF OF YOUR FUCKING FACE, EGBERT. I KNOW YOU HAVE IT THERE. SO HELP ME I WILL FUCKING RIP IT OFF MYSELF.  
EB: hey karkat! :B   
CG: ALL HAIL THE PRINCE .  
CG: FINALLY YOU BLESSED US WITH YOUR PROMISING TEXT.  
EB: hehe karkat you’re so funny.  
CG: I WASN’T EVEN TRYING TO BE FUNNY.  
EB: hehe.  
EB: anyways is there anything you wanna tell me?  
EB: i would love to listen to your trolling all day and all but i have somewhere i need to go soon.  
EB: like the bathroom.  
CG: GOG   
CG: JEGUS EGBERT ALRIGHT GO TAKE YOUR FUCKING BATH MY MESSAGE CAN WAIT.  
EB: or you can just leave it and ill get back on you later.  
CG: FINE.  
CG: GO TAKE YOUR FUCKING BATH.  
EB: ttyl.  
\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--  
CG: YOU STILL THERE?  
CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU ARE IDLE IM GONNA KILL YOU.  
CG: …  
CG: JOHN?  
CG: …  
CG: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN   
\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--  
EB: gotcha!   
EB: i wasn’t even in the bath yet.  
CG: WHAT THE LITERAL FUCK JOHN.  
EB: thanks buddy got to go though   
CG: GOD DAMN YOU JOHN.  
CG:FUCKING FUCKASS YOU LIAR, WHAT ELSE DO YOU LIE ABOUT?  
CG: EVERY DAMN THING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR MOUTH?  
\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--  
CG: GET BACK HERE YOU ASS.  
CG: …  
CG: FUCK YOU EGBERT.

You stifle a laugh and proceed to throw a towel on your shoulder as you set your phone down on the tiled space near the basin and head into the shower. You turn the knobs simultaneously and adjust it little by little until you found the right temperature you wanted to have. You love the feel of the soft pattering the warm water gives your skin. You let yourself be drenched in the water for so long after you wash yourself, you don’t even notice the time passing until you hear a knock on the door. You turn the knobs counter clock wise and slide the plastic curtain of your tub away.

“Son, breakfast is ready, you should hurry down stairs.” It was your father. Your stomach twists and turns in guilt. Your relaxing bath became a very uncomfortable feeling. You open your mouth to say that you’ll be downstairs in a moment and hoping that it won’t come out wrong and forced in your voice.

Unknowingly you say, “Dad….. I’m sorry.” You sound so guilt-ridden it’s rattles you to the bone. And more guilt washes over you when no reply was given.

“It's ok son. Happy Birthday.” You’re whole stomach flips. You feel small tears prickle off your tear line. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to pry away the negative and sad ornament of emotion and smile happily. You never felt so happy. Buffing yourself up you jump off the tub and grab your towel, wrapping it around you waist.

You squeak when your feet touch the slippery floor and run towards your room. In a quick a moment you’re dressed and ready for school. You clamber all the way down stairs to the kitchen and see your father finishing up a batch of bacon and eggs for you. You silently thank the lord that your dad did not make you any dreaded thing called cake (especially by Betty Crocker). You chirp a good morning to him and grab a mouthful of bacon and eggs and a gulp of white milk. He points you to a paper bag he says it is your lunch and bids your farewell and another greet of happy birthday.

Your name is John Egbert, and you have just grabbed your lunch and bid your father goodbye. You head out of your house and on to the school bus. You are giddy with joy and ready for school.

**=== > Boys: Switch roles.**

Your Name is Dave Strider.

You are a Famous Song artist and you feel like an idiot.

You are currently in a hotel room somewhere in Washington. You have just woken up from your non-existent sleep. You are pretty sure you know why you are in here. Sadly for your Bro it’s not because you just got laid. It’s because you insisted to your manager that you were to stay here in Washington for a while.

He did not like the idea and seeing you are nowhere near giving up, he let you stay. You’re as stubborn as a rock, just like your infamous sad excuse of a brother. What can you say? Like Bro like ‘lil bro. But you will never admit such a ridiculous thing. Again you say, stubborn.

You lay on your back on the soft mattress of your hotel room’s bed. You keep blowing on the fringes of hair you have on your face. There is nothing to do but wait until it was nighttime. You were only here because you wanted to see that beautiful boy again. You wanted the beautiful angel to be by your side, by your side and under the sheets of the bed. Under you, that beautiful apparition writhing, gasping and moaning your name. “Dave–”

You’re pulled away from you thoughts as your iPhone rings its annoying ringtone your friend Jade recorded for you (though it pretty much repeats the same tune, it’s rather nice that she’d do something like that for you). You quickly turn off your phone, disabling your chums from calling or texting you. Brushing your hands on your thighs, you couldn’t help but moan the slightest bit when you touch a swelling on your body. You groan as you begin to see that you are sporting a tent in your pants.

You’ve never felt more like an idiot. You feel so stupid for having a boner and having such lewd thoughts of a stranger you just met last night. You feel even **more** stupid that you are now trying to pry of your hands from nursing your unbearable boner. But alas your stubbornness isn’t enough to resist the temptation so you yield.

You slip your hands under the covers of your bed and into your boxers. You experimentally slide a finger across the slit of your cock, shoveling the oozing pre-cum from the tip and off your shaft. You run your finger down the length of your hardening member, all the way to the base. You groan a low note. You can’t seem to jerk off without the help of imagery. You lean to the side and open the drawers in search of any magazines showing rather exposed women. But to no avail can you seem to find any. You grunt helplessly, this was not your apartment back at Houston. This was not your Bro’s room filled with different categorized pornos found in every inch of it.

You sigh and slink back to your bed. You still have a now uncomfortably hard dick and that did not help. You close your sees and settled with just thinking or imagining a busty slut servicing you with a blowjob. You run your fingers back on your growing member and carefully curl your fingers around it. You imagine a brunette’s soft pale lips around you, slowly bobbing up and down the same time you move your hands in the same direction. The half assed imagine of the slut in your mind is becoming more and more clear as you pick up your pace.

Your imaginary lady had beautiful sky blue eyes. Her thick black lashes created a half lidded illusion of enjoyment and lust on her face. Her whole face was flushed and hot. Her mouth enveloped your entire, completely hardened, cock. You began to notice that she has disheveled, short, jet black hair.

She keeps bobbing up and down and you are quickly approaching your climax. She pulled up one last time before letting go of your length with one last lick and opens her mouth to receive your come. Your imaginary lady is the exact copy of the strange boy you met last night. He moves his mouth and whispers in a husky version of his voice that you heard from him last night. “Dave.”

You came more than you ever have before, and much quicker than you usually did as well. You are satisfied and at the same time all fucked up. You contemplate on how a random ass stranger made you feel like this. You are head over heels in love with him and yet you never got the chance to ask him his name. You even jerked off while imagining him deep throating you. Oh how you wished to feel the real thing… Shit.

You have to stop thinking too far. You might mess everything up by getting all perverted and disgusting on him on the second meeting. You haven’t had a steady relationship yet with the guy. Let alone be friends with him.

You clean yourself up with a nearby towel and lay there for a few minutes, absentmindedly fingering his jacket folded on the chair near the bedside table. And that was it. You have made your decision and found a new determination.

Your name is Dave Strider.

You’re a Famous Song artist currently in Washington.

You stand up and leave your hotel; you are going to woo the black beauty you met last night.

**=== > Dave: Woo the black beauty from yesterday.**

Your Name is Dave Fucking Strider.

You’re a famous Song Artist that is stupidly standing in front of a flower shop.

You stare at the sign of the said store, unsure whether you are going to enter the shop or not. You do not know what on earth possessed you to go here. You are pretty sure whatever spirit got you to do so is telling you to buy some sort of magnificent flower for your date later.

You mentally slap yourself. You’re already calling your second meeting with the kid a date. How assuming you’re becoming. You can’t help but begrudge yourself, but that still didn’t stop you from walking into the flower shop. Your see various colors of flowers, their smells wafting in the air and mixing together.

None of which have taken to your liking. Rows of roses in different colors bombard your eyes. It seemed to irk you that you haven’t found the right one, you weren’t the most patient person, Bro was the same. But you kept your poker face even when the nice old lady behind the counter approached you.

“What kind of flowers are you looking for sir?”

“Anything for a special person.” Your reply comes out blunt and toneless. You can’t bring yourself to care how you sound in front of the old lady. She smiles patiently and ushers you towards the front of her store and plucks a flower before handing it to you.

“Perhaps a Rose?”

Roses? You shake your head in disagreement. Roses seemed wrong for the occasion. It seem to be overdoing it, and it just seemed too mainstream (god you can’t believe you just used that fucking word). You can’t seem to imagine that boy with lush black hair holding a bouquet of roses.

The image didn’t fit at all. You imagine something more simple and elegant, something that goes very well with black and sky blue. You see the lady nod in understanding; she seems to comprehend your inner turmoil. She moves to the back of her store without a word and she comes back to you with a simple white flower in hand.

“These just came in this morning. I think maybe these will fit the person you are trying to get a hold of.” Before you can speak she wraps you up a bouquet of the white flowers, a long strip of white, silvery ribbon tied around it. As she finishes and hands you the small bouquet of flowers you move to fish out your credit card. But by then she had made you take your hands out of your pockets so she could place the flowers in your arm. You open your mouth but she beats you to it.

“No need young man, it’s free of charge since you seem like you need it. I can only wish you the best of luck. Now out of my store.” She pushes you out of the building and pats you on the back, bidding you farewell before going back inside the store. You stand outside unmoving, staring at the bouquet in your arms.

 _Lilies._ It looks so plain yet so beautiful. It strongly reminds you of that black haired stranger. The white colors of the flower are almost as bright as that genuine grin of his. The simplicity is perfect. The flowers are perfect for him. He is perfect.

**=== > John: Be the birthday boy.**

Your Name is John Egbert.

You’re a normal High School student and you are best friends with Karkat Vantas.

Well, you’re pretty sure you are, despite him trying to gnaw off your wrist on your birthday. You find him a very funny fellow much like yourself, but not as mischievous as you when it comes to pranks. Your prankster’s gauge or your self-proclaimed trickster’s gambit is at a full load. You feel the urge to prank your best friend another time though.

But seeing him so flustered and angry at you keeps you torn on playing a prank on him again or laughing in satisfaction of your ventures for today. Your birthday has been a happy day! You feel great joy in your heart. Karkat even arranged a surprise for you earlier along with your other classmates that you can’t seem to remember their names for some reason. Both of you are walking home but you tell Karkat you won’t be going home yet, explaining to him that you’re going to stroll around in the park today.

Karkat has this incredulous look on his face before frowning. He insists that he will walk you off to the park. It seems that he didn’t trust that you will be safe near any parks for some reason. You tell him that it’s fine you are just meeting this guy that helped you out last night. The frown lines on face deepen as you say this. He deemed you an idiot for trusting a random person **and** meeting him again.

You say that he seemed to be a good guy and told Karkat that you’d like to make friends with the guy. As you near the park entrance you turn on your heels and start to bid Karkat farewell. But he did not return your goodbyes. In fact he pulled you away from the entrance.

You notice his eyes are filled with rage. You ask him why? What did he see? His lips turn into a snarl and pounce on you by words. “Are you telling me that that guy on the bench is the guy that helped you last night!?”

“Yeah!” Despite his angry demeanor you chirp back at him with innocent joy. “Oh wait do you know him? That’s awesome!” You began to think how deep the frown lines on Karkat can be, and giggling a little. He grabs your shoulders and shakes you harshly but not hard enough to cause you harm.

“ **Listen** to me Egbert. You should stay away from him got it?”

“But why?” Your heart sinks. Your best friend is not allowing you to have other friends beside him. You kind of want to laugh or joke about it. But the seriousness of Karkat’s face makes you think otherwise.

“He is the biggest douche bag I’ve ever known John, being with him will only bring you trouble. So let’s turn around and get you home.” You pout. You have this terrible feeling in your chest, like it’s tightening. Karkat moves to grab your arm but you slink back to get out of range. You kept your face straight. You probably think you are turning red from anger.

“I’m going to meet him.” You drawl out in the uneven tones of your voice. You feel stupid but you know you have to do this. Somewhere in your heart something is telling you to do so.

He rolls his eyes and after a few minutes he sighs and crosses his arms. “Alright, just. Ah fuck! Just don’t get in trouble you dumbass.” Karkat grunts in defeat. You smile, feeling that you have won. He turns around and waves goodbye before stomping away. You grin and shout goodbye once again and proceed to turn to the opposite direction and into the park. You are now on your way to meet the guy that will turn your whole life upside down.

**=== > Dave: Turn John’s life upside down.**

Your Name is Dave Strider.

You’re a Famous Song Artist and again you feel stupid once again.

You’re sitting on a bench in the Washington Eco Park. You have beside you a folded light blue jacket along with a bouquet of lilies on your lap. People who are passing by you are either squealing once they realize who you are or muttering some weird gibberish you can’t hear over the loud noises of your thoughts. You sit there as patiently as possible.

That was a lie. In fact you’re the complete opposite of patient. You’re completely and utterly itching to see the guy. But you kept your cool and stare off into space with your poker face, ignoring all the annoying stares and bellows for your attention. You take your hand out of your pocket along with your iPhone and check for the time. It’s only 6:30pm. People are only starting to retreat back to their homes as you sat there in silence. You were supposed to meet the guy at 10. But you’re not entirely sure if that’s what he said so you came early.

Too early. Later you hear a familiar obnoxious voice shouting from the outside of the park. You ignore it. You know that if you try to even understand what the shouting is about it will only make you irate. You don’t know how right you are.

You continue to ignore the shouting until you heard a more familiar melodic voice shouting indignantly. You know that this must be that beautiful angel you saw last night. You want to giggle at the innocent antics of the guy, shouting their whole conversation in public. But you’re a Strider and Striders don’t giggle. You don’t want to admit it but you want to get closer and eavesdrop on whatever the mystery guy was talking about.

You grab your things and walk over. But as you come closer the conversation has already ended. And yet you still walk towards where you last heard his voice. Your heart beats in anticipation to see that beautiful apparition once again. The unexpected happened.

Or to your point of view the expected happened. A black blur collided on your chest. It was him. You stood still while he lay sprawled on the ground, nursing his nose. “Am I some sort of accident zone? If every time we meet you will have some sort of injury because of me we should probably go our separate ways. Who knows, the next time I see you again you’ll be in the hospital chained to a machine.”

“Yeah we probably should.” He laughs. “But hey, you only live once y’know?” He scratches the back of his head. You stretch one hand down to him and heave him up back to your level. He is still unbalanced and collides once again on your chest, earning him a, “uof-” from your mouth. You didn’t seem to place resentment towards the guy and his series of unfortunate events with you. A clumsy fellow, is the only thing you can think of.

He stands a few inches shorter than you. He looks up just to look in your eyes. Not that he could. Your shades stop him from doing so.  
You stare at him long before you realize that you and he were standing in an awkward position much like the shitty chick flicks that used to air in movies and on television. You step back and shove the contents in your left arm to him. You feel the sensation of blood creeping up your cheeks but you will them away to hide your embarrassment. Much to your happiness it was a success. “These are yours.”

He looks confused for a second –which you deemed his appearance as “kawaii,” like your Bro does when watching his shitty “sugoi” anime – but then realization strikes him that the blue bulky material is his jacket and the white blur was a bouquet of flowers. He opened his mouth in flabbergast. You realize what you have just done. You ruined the perfect opportunity to woo the guy as a thought crashed down on you.

What if the guy was against the third gender? You can only hope he isn’t. You prepare yourself for an onslaught of screams of disgust and bellows of anger. But none came. You return your attention back to the boy.

He stares at you his mouth agape but at the same time curled into a smile. His eyes show endless amount of astonishment and joy. He almost dropped all of his belongings and gave you a heart attack. Unaccustomed to physical contact you went stiff as he hugs your waist. No one ever hugs a Strider. No One.

“Gosh! Thanks Dude! How’d you know it was my birthday?” Everything melts away. Well ok you think maybe he can be an exception to the rule. You shrugged. You didn’t even know it was his birthday. You played along with his imagination.

You knew this is better than bluntly saying, ‘I didn’t, I was here to sweep you off your fucking clumsy feet,’ and get rejected afterwards. Your mind is telling you that you are not ready for this and a tiny part of it was telling you to confess your undying love for this stranger, this fucking stranger that you just met but were really attracted to. That part was stupid. But you forgot the fact that you are stupid.

“I Love you.” He stares at you for a moment before slapping your arm and doubling over in laughter

“You know, you’re really funny.” He giggles and wipes the tears in his eyes. Your heart breaks. He did not take your confession seriously. You are half relieved he didn’t but feel the sadness is more overwhelming than your relief. No one’s ever made you feel so emotional, it’s amazing that some boy like him can make you feel like this, and so quickly, too.

“I’m not funny, I’m ironic.”

“Yes you are and you’re really, really, early.” He pats your shoulder and grins widely. His eyes widen in alert and he jolts into a small jog. He grabs your arm and starts to pull you in a direction. “Let’s go! The night’s still young. I want to take you somewhere cool.”

“What can I say? Being in love with a stranger made me like this, so of course I’ll join you.”

“Hehe, that’s so gay!” He was still laughing. You think you are getting the hang of him not taking you seriously. There is still a part of your heart that is hurting like a bitch but you toss the feeling away. He was just innocent or just plain naïve. But that was fine. You think that this only adds up to his perfect angelic picture.

“So where exactly are you taking me?”

“Somewhere I can rape you.”

You were confused at first but there was this warm feeling in your chest that unmistakably made you smile a little on the inside. “Come at me bro.” You let yourself be pulled by the black enigma laughing in front of you.

“You’re really weird you know that? A lot of other people would’ve looked at me strangely or stopped walking, but you’ve done neither. My name’s John by the way.”

“Yeah I know I’m **ironic** , not weird. I’m Dave.”

“I don't think you know what that means... Well anyway, nice to meet you Ironic–I mean Dave. Hehe. But we gotta stop dilly dadling around and get walking if we want to get there!”

You smile (slightly); you don’t think he saw it. You’re glad he didn’t.

Your Name is Dave Strider.

You’re a Famous Song artist.

You are falling in love with John and you’re still falling.

-Chapter end-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editor: Next chapter is out! Yay! : D


	3. A Melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John takes Dave some where secluded!!! (/O0O\\)

  
=====> Be the boy being dragged around.

  
Your Name is Dave Strider

 

 And you don’t know where ever the fuck this brunette beauty is taking you. You never had a good sense of direction if ever this guy left you for giggles after all the many corners and curbs you walked there is no way you’ll come back alive to your brother. Well then you might as well be ready to be a beggar on the streets asking for alms and spare change while dropping sick beats and awesome ass raps of the century. Then probably some guy would recognize you and calls your manager or your brother or god forbid Rose. She will roast your ass for being stupid. That will last more than a century. She could write a freaking novel dedicated to your stupidity and holy shit she will rub it in your face as it wins an Oscar or some shit that has something to do with novels and books and what not.

 

“Hey earth to Dave!”

  
Your inner turmoil halts into a stop as John waves his hands in front of your face for god knows how long now. He must think you’re stupid. Well there goes my reputation to John. Thank you Oscars and shit winning smug ass broad imaginary Rose. Damn you.  


“Huh? What?”

 

John laughs at you with his huge buck tooth showing as he uncontrollably opens his mouth in his laughter. You stifle a laugh and he notices this and immediately clasps his mouth with one hand and slaps your shoulder with the other. You can’t help but laugh now the brunette was conscious about his teeth. You weren’t even meaning to tease him but he looked cute being bashful.

 

“Stop it Dave.”

  
“Why hide it dork?” You try to pry away his hand from his mouth just to get it swatted away. But it never stopped you trying still.  John twists , runs and  squirms away from your menacing hands. You see John is having the time of his life despite all the teasing. The happiness is swelling out from him and to be honest from your heart. 

 

“Because! You’re laughing at me and it looks ugly.” He gasps between breaths he lost from the struggle.

 

“Nah man, you look aight.”You say after draping an arm over his shoulders. You lean a bit closer to John’s face and you see him turn ruby red from blushing. A smirk from you got him more flustered you swear he was pouting you pinch his cheek. “Cute as a baby hamster.” That ticked him off and John forces you off him in one push.

  
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop cutie.”

 

“Whatever Asshole.”

 

You laugh lagging behind him. He halts to a stop not too long from where both of you were causing a ruckus. In front of him was a small café, with barely enough decoration to make to appealing to any passer by. But it seemed like you talked too soon. As John drags you inside the supposedly small café to a huge hidden lush bat cave and here you thought you've seen it all in the movies. The whole inside was delicately designed with what seemed like something that comes out of London’s asshole. The place was not packed but it does have a hefty number of customers sit here and there with their own business or world.

 

Your awe was audible enough to cause disturbance to the other customers, their annoyed gazes directed at you. You shut your mouth when you saw John giggle at your antics. A tall slim woman approaches you both and greets you a welcome to the café. She's actually taller than you by half an inch with a tomboyish hair cut and dark lipstick that reminded you about your sister. You swear if your sister was here she'd fuck this woman on the spot

 

“Good Evening Boys welcome to Café Maryam. I see you brought in a new face today John. I suppose a private room is in order for young men on a date.” The lanky woman said staring deeply at your glasses you feel that she can see right through them straight to your eyes. She smiles rather teasingly you don’t notice the creeping blush on your cheeks.

 

“Kanaya I didn’t know you have it in you to make jokes!” John chuckles he didn’t take what Kanaya told the both of you seriously. God he looked so cute laughing his buck tooth peeking a bit in his shy grin. You wanted to see more of his expressions.

 

“Surely you know I don’t jest John.” Kanaya shook her head and looked at you one last time as if to offering her condolences to your feelings then led the two of you to a flight of stairs. Above, revealed hallway with an array of doors. She leads both of you to one room and yet again began your awe as you entered. It looked like a small karaoke room -with side couches and a table in the middle. It had the touch of the Middle Eastern style of curtain arrangements and as well as a well dimmed lighting a top the room.

 

====> Dave : Stop wasting time and flirt with this brunette

 

A bugging noise in your head stops you from admiring the scenery and forces you to flirt with a brunette. But you are not entirely sure who it was pertaining to since there were two brunettes with you, Kanaya and John. You looked back and saw that Kanaya had already left and John was the only one with you. You figured you’ll flirt with this brunette. You took your seat on the sofa you were practically laying on the large comfy couch and John did the same quite close to you.

 

“So this is where you’re going to force me to nonconsensual love making?”

 

“Yah bet!”

 

“You got tastes John. I thought you’re only going to take me to some old dingy motel and take advantage of my innocence. Oh woe is me.” You fake a faint lying sprawled on the soft fabric and foam below you like a miserable damsel in distress. John giggles at you actions and suddenly became rigid stiff trying to imitate a knight in armor but looked like a scraggly squire trying to look fancy for a princess. You didn’t want to ruin his moment so you stifle your laugh and kept a poker face as well as your posing.

 

“I had to make it special for my very special target.” John bows low before moving over to the table and starts tapping on a tablet attached to it. It was a digital menu for the café. It was so bad ass you add it to the things you found awesome about this place. John turns his head to you to question your order. “What do want to order? They serve pretty awesome coffee here but if you don’t like coffee they also offer juices and sodas.”

 

“Amazing! You order via tablet here damn John you know how to make a woman like me swoon.” You comment hugging John by the waist. He doesn’t seem to mind the physical touch so you stayed your ground on his waist. “I'll get whatever you recommend is best.”

 

“Apple Cinnamon Mocha Frappuccino and Blue berry Rush Frappuccino it is then! If you don’t like what I ordered for you we can switch.” Your ear twitches in attention. Apple that shit was your favorite. You practically live for Apples, Fuji apples, Green apples, cherry apples, Fresh apple juices, all things that had something to do with apples. You worship it so much you have your mini bar filled with apple juices of sorts. John must be some sort of angel knowing what strings to pull. No. He was already an angel to begin with. Maybe one day you can worship John along with your Apple gods. Better start erecting an altar then.

 

“No its fine your choice is exactly my taste. How did ever you find this cool place? I swear I feel like I just entered the world of wizardry and bullshit with all those witches and magical gay sticks. Seriously it didn’t look this big when we were outside.”

 

"You’re a total dork using Harry Potter as a reference.” John finally lets out a burst of laughter without worries.  You’d love to bask in the moment of his happiness but he shies away looking like he was getting ready to tell a horrid tale. As much as you want to change the subject to make it more comfortable for John, You, Yourself want to know the stories of John’s past. It piqued your interest to nudge John to continue. “It’s not really a pretty picture how I found this place. Say I was trying to get as far away as I could from my tormentors”

 

“Tormentors? This story’s really starts to sound like some Harry Potter shit is brewing here John.” You jest and try to lighten his load. He papped your face softly and smile. You want to melt from there on.

 

“Not like Dementors you ass, Bullies to be exact. I was trying to shake them off by going through a lot of streets. And got lost myself trying to find a way back out. Then I stumbled upon here where Kanaya found me and treated my wounds.”

 

“I don’t suppose you still have them bullies tailing you?” You frown at this John really did look troubled with it. You want to kick the asses of all those bullies that John’s mentioning then make sure they wouldn’t want to come out of their houses ever again.

 

“Nah my best friend back at school found a way to ward them off my back a long time ago. But then yeah ever since I stumbled upon here this became my hangout. Kanaya happily reserves me this VIP room every time I come by.”

 

=====> Dave: be Sherlock and find out who that best friend guy is.

 

You will certainly be Sherlock right now. That guy stole what was supposed to be your thunder and your ticket to a one way train to John’s la la world. You’d say you were jealous if only you were allowed to. But then again what can you do you’re just an acquaintance he just recently met and he barely knows you at all.

 

“Sounds like a hell of a best friend you got there buddy. What’s his name?”  You inquire.

 

“His name is Ka-…“

 

Just as your rival’s name was about to be revealed a knock resounded from the door of the room. All of John’s attention went over there as soon as it came.

 

“John your order is here.” Kanaya announces as she opens the door. John excitedly accepts the beverages. “There you go John. You ordered an Apple cinnamon mocha frappe, blueberry rush frappe, and a side order of Oreo cheese cake.”

 

“Hang on, I didn’t order cake Kanaya.” John was suddenly confused and so were you. You did remember that John didn’t order any sweets or pastries. John moves to correct Kanaya’s mistake. Kanaya beats him to it and shushed him.

 

“It’s on the house John. Think of it as a gift for your birthday. From us.” John looked surprise at the gift. He smiles with gratitude and Kanaya reciprocates with a reserved smile. “Don’t think I forgot about your birthday.” You kind of felt left out being that you didn’t even know it was his birthday and you weren’t able to give him a gift. The lilies don’t count though it’s more of get-in-his-pants gift rather than a happy birthday gift. You silently list to yourself to give John something next time you two meet.

 

“Thanks Kanaya.”

 

“If you need anything else you know what to do.” Kanaya dismisses herself from the room and nods to both of you as she left as a sign of farewell. You saw John’s eyes twinkling in heart felt joy as he digs in to the cake. You can’t help feeling jealous yet again. It looked like John really likes this Kanaya girl. Perhaps you should give up while it’s still early, but a voice in the back of your mind’s telling you not to give up. You feel determined and trust your guts maybe there really is nothing between John and Kanaya.

 

“You and her are quite close aren’t you? Are you aiming to catch her heart and leave poor little old me to the wolves?”

 

“No!” John recoils with his hands frantically gesticulating in front of him. It almost relieved you that Kanaya was not your rival. You shouldn’t worry about her at all. But the light blush on John’s face makes you think other wise. He further explains himself. “Kanaya is a lesbian. I heard she was already trying to woo a writer she met once at a book signing .”

 

“So you were...” You almost deflate but kept your stoic tone so you won’t seem affected.

 

“Ok so maybe I did have a little crush on her when she helped me out” John continues to explain to you as if he was a 7 year old trying to calm down his 8 year old jealous girlfriend from him seeing him sharing his juice box to another girl during recess. He looked so cute you want to stay here all night and what he’s rambling about it. “But that already passed by and everything is totally a platonic friendship.”

 

“Speaking of friends what about that best friend of yours?” As much as you find his rambling funny you fish him out from his misery by changing the subject.

 

“Oh yeah! But let’s put that on another time. I’d want to have you two meet in person!” John exclaimed ecstatically it was like he was waiting all year just to tell you. He went off and machine gunned you again with his ramblings. You don’t actually listen to him much you just stare at his beautiful face. The way his eyes crinkles when he tells you something funny and the flabbergasted look on his face as he discovers something new from what he was telling you, you were so content and you also hope he doesn’t notice you aren’t listening.  “He is a really funny guy. He gets cranky from time to time but harmless.”

 

“Sounds like a crab type of dude I know.”  


“The fuck is a crab type?”

 

“It’s a horny piece of fuck who isn’t actually cute.” John collapses into short bursts laughter. Barely containing himself for a few moments till he regained sanity, then he continued asking Dave.

 

“Really? You think maybe the one I know is the same person you know?”

 

“I can’t guarantee. I don’t live here to begin with so perhaps it may not be the same person. I come across him rarely at work in New York.” You scratch your head lifting yourself from lying on John’s lap, then position yourself to sit and lean sideways on John’s shoulder.

 

“Whoa! So you actually live in New York? What’s a big time dork like you doing in Washington?”

 

“I don’t live in New York, my sister however does. I on the other hand live in Houston and Im here for business.”

 

“You’re not that old to look like a business man of some sort. You look at lot like my age. Unless of course you’re a drug lord or -…”

 

“That’s because I am young. And I never went to college. I just went and followed my family’s footsteps, which have nothing to do with drugs or whatever your brain is trying to cough up.”

 

“That sound like your family is some kind of royalty in Texas!”

 

“I never heard of a monarchy in Houston but if you want me to be, I’ll be a Prince for you, John, and carry you off to my apartment complex castle where we will make lots of gay babies and, together, rule over the hell hole called Texas.” You face you head toward his and he reciprocate as thou it was a challenge to a joust. You waited for his response. The excitement inside you almost gnawed your heart as you anticipate how he will response.

 

“I swoon to your highness, Dave, my handsome dorky prince, take me away!” 

 

It took about 3 seconds that both of you held it in. All hope of keeping your feelings inside and being a stony ass faced dude was gone. You and John burst in unfathomable and uncontrollable laughter. Both of you find comfort in each other’s company.

 

=====> Dave: Fall in love with this nerd.

 

You can’t fall in love with this nerd, you can’t. Because you’ve already fallen so deep in love with him He could be the death of you. You can’t escape it when he is already there.

 

\- Chapter End-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think its been years? since i updated this piece. Hope you guys would still like to read this :33
> 
> if you'd been asking why so long~?? well its cause i lost my precious editor which I really do hope will return. then again a friend of mine is helping me keep this alive~!
> 
> Till the next chapter!! <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> A new note was collected for a Perfect Song
> 
>  
> 
> _____
> 
> Gosh! Thank you Guys For Reading my FIc!
> 
> and thankyou Seer of Time for the invite and the Editings =D you're awesome!!!
> 
> It's no problem, I am but a lowly editor. X D But we need to talk about the summary. We have to keep it in paragraph form or it's too long, it appears on my front page on my channel, and I fear that my viewers will grow upset when they have to scroll all the way down to get to TB&ET, my current fic. Although I do like how you wrote the summary, that is rather nice. : D


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